


Aurora

by Pixie (magnetgirl)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Post Series, Tumblr Prompt, her hair is fabulous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-30 00:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16275935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetgirl/pseuds/Pixie
Summary: Anonymous requested Kathryn Janeway and Chakoay +Screw38:His fingers running through her hair.





	Aurora

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Аврора](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187259) by [allayonel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allayonel/pseuds/allayonel)



Her hair is the color of a sunrise. 

It wasn't immediately apparent, that first moment, when she appeared on his screen and then on her bridge. It would be their bridge within days, but it was hers that first moment. The lighting was low, the ship on alert, and so was he, even more so when Paris appeared at her side and Tuvok revealed his truth. Their truth.

Chakotay was caught in that moment, in many ways. 

Her hair was up, as it often was those early years, in a tight bun, the physics of which seemed improbable. She's always been very deliberate in how she presents herself, played with her hairstyles enough for Tom to start up a betting pool. The casual contributors chose 'up' or 'down', while the more hardcore hairdo aficionados threw around names like 'french twist' and 'pompadour'. 

He'd never participated, Tom felt he had an unfair advantage, that he was the most inner planet in her orbit, and he'd never been much of a gambler anyway. Not the way she is. The thought has crossed his mind more than once that in another life, she'd have been a much more effective - explosive - Maquis than he was. Probably better for everyone they live in this life.

Of course, eventually she cut it off. That was a turning point. She didn't change but, what's that saying? She became more clearly herself. He missed her hair, missed his fantasies of running his fingers through it, of tugging her naked body down onto his own, straddling the command chair. He'd imagined the scene so many ways. But then he could imagine them all again, with her new bob bouncing inches off her shoulders. He knew, knows, the curve of them so well. 

He used to think a sunset is more romantic than a sunrise. It's a first step to going home together, falling into bed, spending the night. And when he was very young his father taught him sunrises are for reflection, something personal to be experienced individually. There's no right time to meditate but sunrise is a good time. And Kathryn would say the color of sunrise and sunset are identical due to the way a sun's light filtered through an atmosphere is interpreted by our brains. But regardless of philosophy or science, her hair is the color of a sunrise.

She stirs under his gaze, her soft red hair just long enough now to brush her bare shoulders as she props herself up on her elbows, the sheet slipping slightly to reveal the curve of her breasts. The quiet sounds of an Arizona morning float in through the bedroom window, the pale light of daybreak starting to push through. It's an hour before sunrise. 

"I didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs, touching a finger to the sheet. She shrugs and it slips again, causing a grin to spread across his face. 

"What are you doing?"

"Reflecting."

She raises an eyebrow. "On?"

His eyes twinkle as he answers, "your hair."

Kathryn chuckles. "It _is_ getting long." She rises up on her knees, the sheet falling away entirely, her hair framing her face, lit up by the tendrils of light, somewhere between dawn and day, falling through the window. "Do you want to go watch the sunrise?"

He shakes his head, still grinning widely, and leans in close to gather her body in his arms. "I want to watch you." And he leads her back down onto the bed, presses his lips to her skin, his fingers running through her hair.


End file.
